Harlequin Intrigue April 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 by Carol Ericson (beginner reading books for adults .txt) 📗

the people around him were even more tired. Ben and Anderson coming in with their FBI team had taken the weight of the investigation off the Desparre PD, but it hadn’t taken away the responsibility.

He could see it as he eyed Keara from his peripheral vision, trudging beside him, leaving the bomb site. There was soot smeared across her forehead, someone else’s blood on her arms and a furious determination on her face.

As she glanced back at the scene, barely visible in the moonlight, he told her, “There’s nothing else you can do there tonight.”

Walking between them, Patches nudged Keara with her nose, always sensitive to people’s needs.

Keara smiled fondly down at his dog, petting her head as she refocused on their destination: the police station.

Anderson jogged up beside them, shivering even with his FBI jacket zipped all the way up. The agent had come from Los Angeles and even after being in Alaska longer than Jax, he still hadn’t acclimated. His normally perfect hair was sticking up in all directions and there were dark craters under his eyes. “We’ll be taking another look at that symbol now that we’ve seen it at a second bomb site.”

Jax felt his heart thump harder. “It was on this bomb, too?”

“Not on the bomb. We found it on a tree behind the gazebo. It was carved there, pretty recently, judging by the state of it.”

Keara frowned, looking more perplexed than encouraged by the news.

Anderson glanced from Jax to Keara and back again. “Ben said you were combing through other crimes that might have the same symbol. Any luck?”

Jax gave a frustrated shrug. “We thought so, but now I’m not so sure they match. I’ll flag them for you guys to look, but...”

“Seems like more than one person is using the same symbol,” Anderson finished, not sounding surprised.

Jax glanced at Keara, wanting her take on it, and she gave a discouraged nod.

“This symbol means something we don’t understand yet,” Anderson said. “You were right about that, Jax. Whatever the meaning, it sounds like it’s important to more than one criminal. Maybe it’s connected to an organization, possibly some kind of underground group.”

“But what?” Keara muttered. “The Houston PD researched it seven years ago. I researched it this week. None of us came up with anything.”

Anderson shrugged, covering a yawn with his hand. “Or it could be more personal. Maybe we have a couple of criminals who were a team once and now they’re both taking the symbol to their own crimes.”

Keara’s troubled gaze met his and he could practically read her thoughts: If the symbol was from some personal event, how would they ever figure it out?

Patches nudged her again as they reached the police station and Keara pet her once more before holding open the door.

Jax filed inside with Patches, but Keara stayed there, holding the door open and thanking each of her exhausted officers—and all of the FBI agents, too—as they walked past her.

She was a good chief. It couldn’t have been easy for her, being the only woman on the force, being so young for her role and being an outsider, too. But it was obvious her officers respected her. Despite how personally each of them had been touched by today’s tragedy, they mustered up weak nods for her in return.

Even the FBI agents, who could sometimes get frustrated with small-town officers who had little experience dealing with major crimes, seemed impressed by Keara and her team.

As Keara finally followed them inside, Sam stood up behind the front desk. “Any news on Nate?”

Keara swept her gaze over her officers, who had all stopped in the entryway of the station to listen. “The hospital is going to update us when there’s any change. I’ll keep you all informed.”

Keara’s youngest rookie had been in bad shape when the helicopter had lifted off. So had its other occupant, the grocery store owner who was far stronger than she looked to have held on until the medevac team arrived. Five other people had been taken to the hospital, too, but they’d gone by ambulance, taking the hour ride up and down the mountain to get to Luna. But at least—as of right now—no one had been killed in this bombing.

“We’re going to relocate over to Desparre,” Ben said, moving to the front of the crowd.

The seasoned agent, who’d lived in Alaska most of his life and managed other scenes where explosives had been set off, was holding up better than most of them. But even he had cracks in his stoicism, with a tight set to his jaw that suggested this case had him worried.

“There’s a hotel just a few miles outside of town,” Keara said. “It’s called Royal Desparre. It’s a nice place, but we don’t get many tourists here. They’ll have vacancies.”

“Thanks,” Ben said. “Let’s go,” he called to the other FBI agents and employees, and then he told Keara, “We’ll be back in the morning.”

As they trudged out of the station, Jax lagged behind. He didn’t want to leave without a chance to talk to Keara alone. He wanted to see how she really felt about the new bombing and what they’d found this afternoon. But it was more than that. He also wanted to be able to talk to her outside her official capacity, away from people who relied on her to set the tone and be a leader. To make sure she was really okay.

“You coming?” Anderson called to him as Keara’s officers all started heading out the door, too.

Jax looked at Keara and found her gaze already on him. “I have a pull-out couch,” she said, loud enough for Anderson to hear. “In case they won’t let Patches stay in the hotel.”

Anderson didn’t look like he bought her reasoning, but Jax jumped on it. “That would be great. Thanks.”

Patches gave her own woof of approval.

Keara nodded stiffly at him, then turned away, checking on each of her officers individually. She made sure each one was able to drive home,